


Love

by doctortrekkie



Series: Break Me Down and Build Me Up [12]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: (Leo Owain and Inigo for those keeping track at home), Birthday, Check out that new relationship tag!!!, Cheve Plotline Begins, Gen, Happy Birthday Leo, Hurt/Comfort, In which Leo’s birthday fic contains comparatively little Leo, Letters, New ships! New people!, Worldbuilding, in exchange for More Plots, that’s stressful, why do my three faves have their birthdays within a month and a half of each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19045615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctortrekkie/pseuds/doctortrekkie
Summary: Leo’s seventeenth birthday begins at midnight with a typical fiasco. In contrast to the melodrama at the Northern Fortress, however, disaster is playing out on a far larger scale that threatens to stretch across the continent.After two decades under Nohrian rule, the death of their governor has sent Cheve into a tailspin of unrest. Xander has been sent to the southern territory in hopes of finding a peaceful solution; while the proposed replacement for the position seems an honorable candidate, his hotheaded daughter’s view on the situation proves worrying.Nohr is not the only country with a stake in the conflict, either. Ryouma and Hinoka find themselves at odds with the rest of the royal family with their proposal to secretly aid Cheve against Mikoto’s orders. Takumi is more than willing to let their lifelong enemies fight it out amongst themselves, whilst Azura and Sakura find themselves caught in the middle of trying to keep the peace in their own family.Suddenly, birthday pranks seem a lot less important by comparison.(Takes place two years before the beginning of Fates and a month and a half afterHalo;June 634)





	Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mori_no_Majou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mori_no_Majou/gifts).



> I had this all set up and ready to be posted by yesterday afternoon. Formatting, tags, notes, etc. And then, last night, a wonderous update was posted--and hence I quickly filled in the box marked _Gift this work to._ Because how could I not?
> 
> (Seriously, if you're in the Leokamu fandom and you haven't read Arashi no Ato yet, then who are you and why are you still here? Go! Quickly! And make sure you're sitting somewhere comfy because you're gonna be there a while ;D)

_We got the same heartbeat, we’re living for the same dream, we got the same bloodstream, where did we all go wrong?_

 

**Northern Fortress, outside Windmire, Nohr**

 

“I bet,” Elise whisper-shouted, stifling a giggle in her palm, “that his pajamas are on inside out.”

“I bet they’re buttoned crooked,” Corrin shot back under her breath.

“Or both,” Elise replied. “What do you think, Niles?”

From where the former thief knelt on the floor, he turned his head slightly sideways so the two princesses could catch a glimpse of his smirk. “Why, thinking of Lord Leo in his nightclothes? I would do no such thing,” Niles said in a scandalized tone. He twisted his wrist as he spoke, the thin silver line of his lockpicks flashing in the muted light.

“Uh huh,” Elise said, exchanging a look with Corrin.

“Careful now,” Niles chided. “You’ll draw the ire of Lady Camilla if you don’t put a gag in it soon.” He craned his neck, peering down the hallway until he seemed satisfied that the eldest sister hadn’t been woken by their murmuring. He turned the lockpick once more and the doorknob gave a quiet _click._ “Ah, there you are, miladys. Now, remember. I’m not here.” With that, he straightened, shooting them a wink. Well, presumably a wink—it was hard to tell the difference when one had only one eye.

“Is it midnight yet?” Elise asked, bouncing on her toes.

“Nearly,” Corrin whispered back, before a thought occurred to her. “Er, Niles?”

“Yessss?”

“...Wouldn’t you have a _key_ to Leo’s room?”

“Of course I do, milady,” Niles replied smoothly, withdrawing a small keychain from his pocket. “Right here.”

“...So why didn’t you just… use it?” Corrin asked.

“You asked me to help you _break in_ to milord’s room,” he said. “You said nothing about merely opening it.”

Elise huffed, rolling her eyes before tugging on her sister’s hand. “Come on, come on! It’s gotta be time now!”

“Okay,” Corrin whispered in agreement, turning back so her body would shield the light of the candle in her hand. Snickering, Elise did the same. Niles slid the door open smoothly, lifting a shushing finger to his lips as the two princesses backed into Leo’s room.

The door swung shut again, though a tiny crack of air remained. Corrin held up three fingers, then two, then one—in unison, both girls spun around.

_“HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEO!”_

Silence.

They had expected squeaking, maybe a proper scream, the flail of flapping blankets and perhaps the thud of a surprised Nohrian prince’s body colliding with the floor. None of it came.

“Er, Leo?” Corrin lifted her candle, squinting. Leo’s bed sat empty, perfectly made, and still obviously untouched despite the hour.

“He’s not _here!”_ Elise cried, her tone anguished. “That’s… that’s…” Apparently struggling to find the right words, she finally settled on, “That’s just _dumb!”_

“Well,” Niles drawled, appearing in the doorway once more. “Isn’t that disappointing?”

“He must not have gone to bed yet,” Corrin said, a little forlornly. “Come on, let’s split up. We’re bound to find him.”

“Yeah!” Elise said brightly, clapping her hands together. “You can’t hide from us, Leo!” She bounced on her toes, then said, “Maybe he went down to the stables to wait for Xander?”

“I’ll check the library,” Corrin said, already moving. “Er, thanks for helping, Niles.”

“Oh, _any_ time, miladys,” Niles drawled.

Corrin shuffled down the hallway, chewing absently on her knuckle. Leo had only come to visit her twice in the past month, both daytrips, but she could still tell he hadn’t been quite the same with her since the last time her siblings had stayed over. He’d been a little more sullen, a little more guarded since he’d told Corrin the awful story of their father’s concubines and children.

She almost wished there was a way to take it all back—to wipe the knowledge from her head like she’d never learned it, to leave a spot in her memory as blank as the first few years of her life.

She couldn’t, though—no more than Leo could erase his own memories of the horrific events that had taken place, a thousand times worse than Corrin’s own secondhand, belated knowledge. He would carry it for the rest of his life, and all she could hope to do was see if he’d let her bear a tiny fraction of the burden.

A sliver of light shone through from under the library door. Corrin paused, then opened the door just wide enough to slip through, neatly avoiding the deafening creak that would invariably sound as soon as the opening reached about sixty degrees. A soft flutter of affection went through her at the sight of her younger brother’s tousled hair over the top of the couch.

Corrin had to bury a laugh—trust Leo to become so engrossed in whatever book currently had his fancy he didn’t even notice he’d read the entire night away. His name rose to her lips, her most wheedling voice at the ready as she leaned her arms over the thick leather back of the couch.

She paused.

From the back, she hadn’t noticed the awkward angle of Leo’s head, but even without the soft snore that escaped him just then it would have been impossible to mistake his slumber. She stifled a giggle—oh, what a crick in his neck he’d have when he woke.

There was no book in his lap, as she’d expected. Instead, a partially folded letter had fallen to the floor at his feet, Leo’s hand dangling in a fashion that said he’d clearly been holding it when he dropped off. Corrin squinted—though she couldn’t make out the words, Xander’s sharp penmanship was unmistakable.

She padded around the couch, crouching by the letter. Xander had been in Cheve for the past two weeks, and they’d all expected him back by today. Perhaps their father had held him up back at Castle Krakenburg?

With gentle fingers, she unfolded the letter, hoping the contents would shine a light on their eldest brother’s absence.

 

_Leo,_

_Firstly, I write you to inform you of the situation in Cheve I am presently dealing with. If you have any input to give on the circumstances, I would welcome it; it seems we will be staying in Chevalier for the foreseeable future, so any correspondence you wish to send may be directed there._

_I think there is little I might write to enlighten you that would serve better than to simply say that Cheve is_ _restless._ _Governor Burchard was not an especially popular man across his holdings, but his presence was a steadying force to the Chevois for nearly two decades. His death has jeopardized that steadiness, and I fear it will lead to dissent._

_Father has not yet made a decision on who will replace Burchard, and the most outspoken of the Chevois seem to believe they ought to have a say in the matter. The vocal majority have put their backing to a knight by the name of Cybalt. He seems a reasonable man, and at first glance, I could have almost recommended him wholeheartedly for the position. I fear his charisma could be a double-edged blade, however, tempting Cheve to cast away Nohrian rule and attempt to regain their independence. Additionally, it seems there are old and worrying ties to Hoshido—Cybalt’s father once served King Sumeragi when Cheve was still an independent state._

_Overall, I worry regarding whichever decision Father makes. Installing Cybalt as governor may be a worrying wildcard, but ignoring Cheve’s vocal support of him may just end with equally dangerous insubordination on our hands._

_As I’ve already stated, I intend to remain in Cheve for some time longer, hoping to find some better report to bring home. As you’ve likely already guessed from the contents of this letter and the fact I cannot imagine you will receive it before the night of the twenty-ninth, I say with deepest remorse that I will be unable to make it back to Windmire in time for your birthday. While it pains me greatly to say as such, I know our sisters will surely make up for my absence with a celebration not soon forgotten. Send my regrets and my affections to them. I hope to hear from you soon._

_Regards,_

_Xander_

 

Corrin scanned the letter a second time, feeling a prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. Birthdays were _sacred—_ she couldn’t remember any of her siblings having one without all the others present. With Xander’s being only a few days before her own, that particular celebration had occasionally spanned the entire gap between them when they had been younger.

It wasn’t even _her_ birthday, and the thought still made her queasy.

“You know,” a bleary, sleep-roughened voice said, “it’s rather rude to read other people’s mail.”

Corrin jumped, falling flat on her butt from where she was crouched. “Leo! I—” She did her best to swallow the lump in her throat, then managed, “Leo, I’m sorry!”

Leo straightened, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Calm down,” he said. “I’m not _that_ upset.”

“I didn’t—” Corrin sucked in a breath, then ruefully handed the letter back. “I meant this,” she finally finished in a low tone.

“Ah,” said Leo, unfolding and refolding the letter as if he didn’t care for how Corrin had done it. “It’s not a huge problem.”

“But… it’s… It’s your _birthday,”_ Corrin said.

“And Cheve is potentially on the brink of revolt,” Leo replied. “One of these things is slightly more important than the other, and it’s not the fact that I’ve happened to survive another three hundred and sixty-five days.”

Corrin’s lips slanted downward, her eyes lowering to study the carpet beneath her. “I’m still sorry,” she whispered.

“Well, it’s not like Xander would ever miss _your_ birthday.”

His words were sharp and subtly bitter. Corrin’s gaze snapped up again.

After a moment, Leo slumped back against the couch, scrubbing a hand through his hair and muttering, “Never mind. It really doesn’t matter.”

“...Okay,” Corrin whispered. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to work extra hard to make sure it’s great, isn’t it?”

Finally, Leo’s face softened. “Oh, yeah, definitely,” he said, a smirk coming to his lips. He clapped his hands together. “Firstly, I would like a cake made entirely out of tomatoes—”

“That’s disgusting,” Corrin cut him off, faking a gag.

“I suppose,” Leo admitted, then added, “To the uncultured.”

“Can I have that letter back?” she asked sweetly.

“...What for?”

“Just give it here.” Still with a saccharine grin, Corrin took the proffered paper and, without a moment of hesitation, whacked it across Leo’s knee.

“Hey!” he protested. “You’re supposed to be nice to me on my birthday!”

“But I’m always nice to you, Leo,” she said. He snorted in response to that. Corrin shook her head, then scrambled to her feet. “Anyways, I should probably go find Elise and Niles.”

“...Wait,” Leo said. “Why do you need to go find Elise and Niles?”

Corrin grinned, skipping around the back of the couch. As she passed, she ruffled a hand through his hair. “Sleep tight, little brother!”

_“Corrin?”_

 

~~~

 

**Castle Shirasagi, Shirasagi, Hoshido**

 

Even in the night, the air warmed her. Water babbled softly over the rocks at the bottom of the brook, a sound as soothing as the soft blades of grass beneath her feet. The night was clear above her head, the stars and moon providing her with more than enough light to see by.

None of it was a comfort to her.

Azura wandered through the gardens, her gait aimless and unhurried. It wasn’t as if she had anywhere to be outside of her own head.

The air outside cleared her head—free from the stifling tension inside, free from the murmured arguments that had clouded Castle Shirasagi for the past several weeks. Some days they were more than murmured, when Hinoka grew a little too riled or Ryouma let his own hotheadedness get the better of him.

Mikoto never rose to that level, thankfully—Azura dreaded to think of how their world would shift if the placid queen ever got it in her head to start shouting. Still, the family she’d tried her best to carve out a niche for herself in was cracking apart at the seams, and nothing she could do seemed to stop it.

She turned the corner of the footpath she followed, revealing the brook from underneath its canopy of weeping willows. Starlight glinted off the water, casting the figure standing on the bridge in eerie relief.

Azura paused, wondering if approaching would be worth it. There was no response as she neared, though, and she finally ventured, “Takumi?”

Her adoptive brother all but jumped out of his skin. “Geez, warn a guy, would you?”

“My apologies,” Azura said softly. “It wasn’t my intent to frighten you.”

Takumi let out a snort that plainly meant _Yeah, right._ Azura clasped her hands together, resisting the urge to fiddle.

It was plain he wanted her gone, mainly by the stiff line of his back and the tight way he’d crossed his arms. Still, she hadn’t yet forced her feet to move, and she couldn’t quite draw her peripheral gaze from his unbound hair reflecting the starlight.

“It’s peaceful out here, isn’t it?” she finally asked.

Takumi snorted again, jerking his head in the direction of the palace. “Quieter than in there, yeah. Not that that’s saying much.”

“It’s still a mess, then,” Azura said. Not that she hadn’t known—even if she never was part of the actual discussions, ever since the Chevois governor’s recent death she had heard nothing but _Cheve this_ and _Cheve that._

“It’s a _disgusting_ mess,” Takumi said. “Ryouma wants to back this Cybalt guy so that if Cheve gains independence they’ll be more willing to side with us against Nohr. Mother’s told him in no uncertain terms we’re not getting involved and neither of them wants to give an inch. Sakura just wants them to get along.” He rolled his eyes. “And oh, _Hinoka_ is all ready to go charging over there herself because she thinks she’ll find some magic clue that will lead her to Kamui’s doorstep. At least Ryouma’s smart enough to keep our aid _secret.”_

Azura nodded. Even without knowing for certain, those were the lines she’d expected her siblings to fall on. “What about you?”

“Me?” Takumi asked. He bent down, picking up a loose, smooth stone from on top of the bridge before straightening and arcing it into the water. “They’re all Nohrians. Let ‘em kill each other.”

“Cheve’s only been part of Nohr for less than twenty years,” Azura pointed out.

He shot her a sharp look, eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?” he demanded. “What, are you sympathetic or something?”

“I was just pointing out the fact,” Azura demurred.

Takumi continued to glare at her for a moment before looking away. “Whatever,” he finally said. “What did you want, anyway?”

She hesitated. “Nothing much, I suppose,” she finally admitted. “Although…”

 _“What?_ If you have something to say, spit it out already!”

“It’s just… Queen Mikoto always says she wanted us to treat each other like real siblings,” Azura finally admitted.

“So, what, real siblings are supposed to always run around meadows hand in hand vomiting sunshine and rainbows?” Takumi pointed back toward the castle again. “Doesn’t work like that, trust me.”

Azura’s gaze unfocused, scenery blurring with the memories of a darkened castle, long ago and far away. “I know,” she whispered. “Forgive me. Forget I spoke on it.”

“Azura,” Takumi said, and his tone unexpectedly softened. “You’ve never really been a sister to me.”

She glanced at him sharply. Now that she thought of it, she supposed someday she had always expected him to come out and say it. “I see,” she murmured. “I can’t say I blame you.”

“It’s not—” Abruptly, he broke off, coughing.

...Gods, was he _blushing?_

“Whatever. Never mind. Don’t worry about trying to be my _real sister._ We’re fine as we are.” Absently, Takumi gathered his hair back, then paused and let it down again as he apparently realized he had nothing to tie it with. He let out a huff.

“I’ll try to stop worrying about it,” Azura finally said.

“Good,” Takumi said flatly. “I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he strode away, leaving her to her midnight introspection.

 

~~~

 

**Chevalier, Cheve, Nohr**

 

Xander had prepared himself zealously for his trip to Cheve. He had pored over letters that detailed the conflict of two decades ago and examined the final surrender and subsequent agreements with exhausting fervor. He thought he had been as primed for the mission as he could possibly be.

And yet, there was one thing he had missed.

Cheve, in the dead of summer, was _pathetically_ hot.

Though it was hardly mid-morning and he wore the lightest clothes he’d packed, the heat was impossible to ignore. The crown prince had only been riding for a few minutes and already his mount’s neck had a light sheen of sweat.

An unmistakably draconic cry sounded from the south. Skoll pricked one ear in that direction—the gentle giant’s typical response to something alarming, as opposed to Leo’s far more temperamental stallion. Xander pulled him up short, eyes narrowed as he scanned through the trees.

The sound came again and Xander spurred his mount into a canter, ducking to avoid the trees that lined the side of the road. Feral wyverns weren’t uncommon in Cheve, and he was far enough out of the city that it was possible one had ventured near. He took a moment to curse that fact that he’d sent Asmund, Viola, and Silas on missions of their own.

He found the situation apparent as he cleared the trees. The wyvern he’d evidently heard bellowed again from the air before diving down into the crystal lake spread across the clearing.

It took a moment to register just what it was targeting.

_Gods, that boy!_

The boy in the lake shrieked as Xander grappled with Siegfried and urged Skoll ahead again. “Foul beast!” he called.

The wyvern snapped to attention, breaking off from its original target and surging from the water with bared teeth. _“Hey!”_ the boy shouted.

“Are you armed?” Xander called back to him, eyes still looked on the wyvern.

“Easy, Sar! _Easy!”_ The boy scrambled out of the lake, his short hair sticking up at odd angles as he threw his arms out to the side. “Do I look like I’m bloody armed, you moron?”

At second glance, Xander realized as he dared take his gaze from the posturing wyvern and to the soaked clothes clinging to the creature’s prey, that was _definitely_ not a boy.

“Sardonyx, I said _easy!”_ the short-haired woman shouted, her eyes on the wyvern. It snapped its teeth once more at Xander, then glanced back at the woman with a distinctly cowed expression. “You know better, you great lug!” she chided, marching up to it. When she reached its head, though, she rounded on Xander. “And _you!_ Is it a habit of yours to run up and start threatening innocent creatures?” With that, she marched up to him, hands in fists. Xander had paused, wide-eyed, trying to catch up with the situation. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

It was only years of practiced stoicism that kept him from laughing aloud. Though the woman glaring at him was perhaps slightly tall for her sex, Xander couldn’t imagine she came any higher than his shoulders. She was still dripping wet, barefoot, clothed in nothing but a dark shirt and a pair of cutoff shorts, threatening him with nothing but her fists and a stony gaze.

He finally blinked, swallowed, and then said, “I take it this… creature… was not attacking you, then.” With care, he sheathed Siegfried again, still eyeing the wyvern.

“Damn straight he wasn’t!” she said. “And even if he was, didja think you were just gonna come up and skewer him with that showy sword of yours? You ever fought a feral wyvern before?”

Xander paused, then said, “If inexperience is used as an excuse to ignore the helpless, it can only be called cowardice.”

The woman scoffed. “‘Helpless.’ I’ll show you helpless if you want a demonstration, and it ain’t gonna be me.”

After another moment, Xander said, “It seems we have gotten off on the wrong foot here. Perhaps we ought to begin again with introductions.”

The woman’s mouth twisted down ever-so-slightly into a semblance of a frown. “Yeah, all right,” she finally said. “Name’s Scarlet. That big lump over there is Sardonyx, as you probably heard me hollering.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of her wyvern, who was sniffing at one of its claws with utter disinterest.

“Ah,” Xander said. “You’re Cybalt’s daughter.”

Scarlet lifted her chin a little higher, eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you?”

“He’s mentioned you,” Xander explained. “I had hoped to make your acquaintance under slightly more favorable circumstances.”

Scarlet let out a slight huff. “Yeah, so? Cybalt’s my dad. Are you gonna actually introduce yourself or is that a one-way thing these days?”

“Ah, forgive me. My name is Xander.”

Scarlet’s expression cycled from abject disbelief, into suspicion, back to disbelief, and then into something resembling pained. _“Xander?”_ she demanded. _“Prince_ Xander?”

“One and the same.”

Her expression twisted further, and her next words seemed to drag from her throat as if the very syllables galled her. “I suppose I should call you ‘Your Highness’ now.”

“Technically correct,” Xander said. “Though I would not find it improper if you preferred ‘Lord Xander’ or ‘milord.’” It was a small concession to make in the grand scheme of things, and with any luck it would gain Scarlet—and Cybalt’s—favor.

Scarlet opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Well, _Your Highness,”_ she said, “I need to get going. I said I wouldn’t be gone long.”

“I’m intending to visit your father as well, if that’s where you’re headed,” Xander said. “I would be glad to join you.”

Once again, there was a long pause as she seemed to sort through her thoughts. “Yeah, all right,” she said in a flat tone that didn’t quite hide her unenthusiasm for the idea. She turned away, snatching up a pair of boots that were laying not far from the edge of the lake. Once she’d shoved them back on, she grabbed the towel laying beside him, absently scrubbing her short locks with it before draping it over her shoulders. “Come on, Sar,” she said, pausing at her wyvern’s shoulders.

Sardonyx cocked his head in her direction; Scarlet murmured something inaudible to Xander’s ears. After a moment, she rolled her eyes, nudging at Sardonyx’s muzzle with one hand and turned away.

“What’re you looking at?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Xander said quickly. After a moment, he added, “You merely remind me of my brother and his horse.”

She continued over, arms crossed over her chest. “If you say so,” she finally said.

Quietly, mostly to himself, Xander added, “It’s his birthday.” A hint more regret than he intended crept into his tone.

“Well, I’ll be sure to drink to his health tonight,” Scarlet said, in a dry tone that implied she had no such plans. “We going or what?”

Xander nodded, reining Skoll back in the direction of the trail. “Have you any siblings, Scarlet?” he asked, thinking perhaps it might be wise to start with small talk before he started grilling her on political issues.

“Nope,” Scarlet answered. A long silence stretched out.

Or perhaps not. “Forgive me,” Xander finally said. “I can understand that the small matter of my being Nohrian royalty would make me unpopular here.”

Scarlet let out a snort. “It’s not as small as ya might think.”

“Nevertheless,” he continued, “my mission here is an amicable one. I hope to come to a solution that is agreeable to Cheve as well as the rest of Nohr. Part of that mission is learning just what your people wish for the coming years. As such, I wonder if I might hear your opinion on the situation here.”

His answer seemed to be the crunch of Scarlet’s boots and Skoll’s hooves along the gravel, followed at a slight distance by the odd hop-skip of a ground-bound wyvern. “Look,” Scarlet finally said. “I know you’re here to suss out my dad and all. Contrary to what _some_ people think, he’s not about to incite a revolution. It’d be a great way to get people killed and he knows it.”

“I wasn’t asking for your father’s opinion,” Xander said after a moment. “I was asking for yours.”

She shot him a glance. “I doubt you want my opinion.”

“I asked for it, did I not?”

“...All right,” she finally said. “If you’re asking for it. I think you’d do better if you just left us alone.”

Xander inclined his head slightly, giving her a curious look. “And what makes you say that?”

Scarlet paused for a moment, seeming to weigh her words. “See, I was just a kid when Nohr came in. I don’t remember it. Lots of people do, though. And when Windmire keeps coming in, policing our every move… one day we’re gonna get sick of asking ‘Mother may I?’”

“So you believe Krakenburg would be better served by a more hands-off approach.”

“Yeah, I do. Come in and take your taxes when the time comes and leave us be, and I think you’d find you’ve got a much better relationship. Chevois are proud. I don’t think many people really want another bloody revolution, but you keep stomping on the snake and one day it’s gonna bite you.” Scarlet ended her statement with a sharp nod, though she continued to stare ahead down the road rather than at Xander.

“...I see,” Xander said thoughtfully. “I must say I’m inclined to agree.”

Scarlet shot him an abrupt look, her eyes wide. “...You are?”

“Indeed. I hold the belief that my father’s policies can be rather… heavy-handed. In times of conflict, such an approach can be necessary. However, I believe they are ill to hold to for too long of a period.”

Scarlet still had a slightly confused expression on her face when she turned forward again. Sardonyx scurried forward, nudging at her shoulder, leaving her to roll her eyes and give him a gentle shove. “You’re more reasonable than I thought you’d be,” she finally said.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Xander said. He added, “I am leaning toward recommending your father for the position. I hope it is the correct decision.”

Scarlet glanced up again, her brow furrowed and her lips flat. “I hope so too.”

 

~~~

 

**Northern Fortress, outside Windmire, Nohr**

 

The day had passed as most of Leo’s birthdays had—the uncomfortable realities of life put on hold, giving way to twenty-four hours where they only thing that really mattered was his family.

Leo very pointedly ignored the Xander-shaped hole in the usual routine as the day dragged on.

Birthday dinners were an unfailingly elaborate occasion, the choice of the boy or girl of the hour. Camilla always favored some elegant multi-course meal, the type favored at high-society balls, and they always meant Krakenburg loaning out a few kitchen maids to the Fortress. Xander’s unerring choice was far simpler: steak and potatoes. Elise and Corrin tended to be wildcards, choosing whatever meal had caught their fancy at the time—they had ranged from complicated pasta dishes (Corrin) to a buffet of ‘breakfast’ fare that had more closely resembled dessert than either breakfast or dinner (Elise).

Leo’s perpetual choice, on the other hand, was by far among the simplest of the bunch: beef stew.

In another corner of the world, stew might’ve been an odd choice for the early days of summer, but in the damp confines of a fortress in northern Nohr it was hardly of note. Four out of five siblings were clustered around the dining table—the dark wood noticeably streaked from a hasty cleaning—all of them trying to ignore Xander’s noticeably absent place at the head of the table.

Worry always had a habit of writing itself across Corrin’s face long before she spoke her concerns. Leo had been watching her furrowed brow from the corner of his eye for twenty minutes now, acutely aware of how little she was joining the conversation. “You don’t suppose…” she finally ventured, “that something awful’s going to happen in Cheve?”

Camilla delicately dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, then said, “My darling Corrin, whatever do you mean?”

“I just…” Corrin set her spoon down against the side of her bowl with a soft clink, her shoulders rising and falling in an inaudible sigh. “Xander couldn’t even make it back, I can’t help but worry…”

“Oh, dear,” Camilla soothed. “I wouldn’t fret about it. The timing’s unfortunate, but the reasoning isn’t unusual.”

“She’s right, Corrin,” Leo added. “We go on these sorts of missions all the time. Father sends us all over Nohr these days.”

“Well _I_ think it’s dumb!” Elise interjected. “What’s so _important_ that Xander couldn’t come back for _one_ day?” She followed up her impassioned statement with a _hmph._

“It’d be more than a day, dear,” Camilla said. “You must think of travel time. It all adds up, and the sooner Cheve has a new governor the better things will be. Leo understands, don’t you?”

Leo hurriedly swallowed so he could reply, “Yeah.” He nudged Corrin with his elbow. “Don’t vex yourself, sister. It’s not a problem.”

Corrin glanced up again, pasting a smile on. “Of course. You’re right. I’ll stop worrying about it.”

The way her features fell as soon as the subject changed, Leo noted, said otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, few quick things I want to touch on:
> 
> -Firstly, I've finally done up a [soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xyc_tKdQJw4&list=PLD1aPrpW6AsAkbU5ic3UQKua8UabnpcL8&index=6) for Heart of Stone. It's not as exhausting as the one for Whatever It Takes, since it only includes the songs I've used as titles for the series. It also happens to spoil the titles of the last few fics, which leads nicely into my next point:
> 
> -Well, I had an entire second point here detailing the future of the series, the next planned installments, and a (very) rough idea of when they might be coming out, and it all had a massive wrench thrown in it when I had a Great Idea (TM) that's going to take a minimum of two more fics than I had planned. Basically, any of the song choices in the playlist, barring one, are not final and subject to change and/or additions. The exception to that is _Unbecoming,_ which is the definite end of Heart of Stone. It will be released at the same time I wrap up the last few chapters of Whatever It Takes--but when that will actually be, I have no idea.
> 
> -Now, just a couple quick notes on some stylistic choices I made: I'm very fond of the names Cheve and Chevalier both, so I simply cheated and made Chevalier the name of Cheve's capital. Additionally, as you may have guessed from "Ryouma" and "Kamui," I'm also very fond of the idea of the Nohrian characters having their localized names and the Hoshidan characters having their non-localized names, so I'll be sticking to that with a few exceptions. Those exceptions will pretty much just be personal preference if I happen to vastly prefer one name over the other. My last name note is regarding Scarlet’s wyvern: “Sardonyx” is a red variant on an onyx. It can also be used as a birthstone for Scarlet’s birth month of August and fits in nicely with her red theme.
> 
> -Lastly, because I'm not sure what to end this on: Go forth and enjoy the Tomato Prince's birthday!


End file.
